


Antiquity isn’t Quite So Overrated

by weimar27



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-07
Updated: 2010-11-07
Packaged: 2017-10-17 06:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/173734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weimar27/pseuds/weimar27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“So what object are you looking to ‘acquire’ now?” Sarah asks. They both know that by acquire, Sarah really means steal but is too polite to say it.When they met a year ago, Bela was trying to steal a grimoire that Sarah’s auction house was going to sell as part of an estate sale. Bela hadn’t been able to steal the book, but somehow she found herself in this strange relationship with Sarah</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Antiquity isn’t Quite So Overrated

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_reversebang/profile)[**spn_reversebang**](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_reversebang/) challenge. I chose the prompt by [](http://astralavator.livejournal.com/profile)[**astralavator**](http://astralavator.livejournal.com/). Check out her lovely art [here](http://astralavator.livejournal.com/120830.html). Her prompt involved Bela and Sarah and this was probably not what she was thinking. But i'm glad she liked it anyways. I had this idea for a case fic, where Bela tries to steal from Sarah but Sarah outsmarts her. This is not that fic, and someday I may write that fic because it would be cool. Somehow I ended up writing what could have happened a couple months down the road. This was interesting to write and has forced me to branch out. Thanks to my betas [](http://destial.livejournal.com/profile)[**destial**](http://destial.livejournal.com/) and [](http://wickedlilwitch.livejournal.com/profile)[**wickedlilwitch**](http://wickedlilwitch.livejournal.com/) for their hard work and working through my issues during while writing. Hope you all enjoy.

**Title:** Antiquity isn’t Quite So Overrated  


Bela arrives at _Soleil_ around nine thirty, a little surprised to find a line outside. It’s unusual for the club to be busy this early, or on a Thursday night for that matter. Usually she never has to wait.

Annoyed, she waits in line like the rest of the unimportant people, wishing she threw enough money around to be worthy of the VIP treatment. She and Sarah come here often enough, more and more lately -- something Bela can’t figure out -- but they don’t throw around vast sums of money. Spending enough to be important always gets you noticed. And It’s not Bela’s m.o. to be ostentatious, she tries to go through life unnoticed, invisible. And Sarah, well Sarah’s just doesn’t seem to care.

A cold breeze picks up, and Bela pulls the lapels of her Burberry coat closer; regretting that she decided not to wear a scarf.

 _It’s too bloody cold to be standing outside._

Thankfully, she only has to wait a few minutes before the bouncer lets them in.

She pays her cover and enters the club. Once inside she heads towards their spot, the platform above the dance floor where they always meet.The deep bass of the music thrums through her as she takes the stairs. Her hips sway in time with the music, red heels adding their own rhythm.

As Bela reaches the platform, she scans the crowd for Sarah. If she’s here, she should be in the section of the bar where the seats give the best view of the dance floor below. Sarah always picks this spot because she likes watching the “swarm of humanity” below. Bela thinks the scenery touches Sarah’s artistic sensibilities.

As expected she finds Sarah in her usual spot, watching the crowd below.

Bela’s struck dumb at the sight of Sarah. Sarah tends to dress demurely, but not tonight. Tonight, Sarah’s dressed to kill in a strapless yellow cocktail dress. The shiny fabric clings to her skin and barely covers her, leaving miles of exposed legs, accentuated by her black Loubitin pumps. Clearly Sarah’s looking to pull tonight, unusual since she never has bothered before when she’s with Bela. Their nights belong to them. Bela feels a flash of jealousy, but stamps it down. Sarah can do what she wants; she doesn’t belong to her.

“Sarah,” Bela says brightly, smiling, setting her red clutch on the table. There’s a brief moment where Sarah gives her a once over; admiring rather than just checking out what’s she’s wearing. Bela isn’t sure what to make of this.

 _Odd._

The moment passes quickly. “Bela.” Sarah’s grin is friendly - familiar - her eyes lacking any of the heat from before.

Non-plussed, Bela sits beside from Sarah. “Sarah, I’m glad you called.”

The waitress arrives and Bela orders a gin and tonic; this club has a decent selection of expensive gins that she has been working her way through, so tonight she’s drinking G' Vine Nouaison Gin.

“I don’t know how you can drink that stuff,” Sarah comments, taking a sip of her beer. It’s a contradiction, that Sarah have such well groomed manners, sophisticated tastes, and designer clothes and yet drink something as plebeian as beer. The contrast is greater tonight. The pint of beer in her hands looks wrong somehow, incongruous with her entire look tonight.

She’s found that Sarah’s full of all sorts of interesting contradictions.

"It's better than the swill you seem to favor," Bela replies.

“One day, I will get you to drink beer.”

Bela looks affronted. “Never.” The argument is an old one. Sometimes Bela thinks Sarah drinks only beer just to annoy her.

“A girl can dream.”

“Don’t waste your breath,” Bela begins, but stops before she says “I’ll be dead before that happens.”

Bela’s not one for regrets. She’s made her choices, and there’s no point in whining about it now her bill has come due. She’s made her peace with the fact that she’s going to hell. Well, maybe she’s not entirely at peace with it since she’s going to try to find some way to renegotiate. She’s hoping that getting her hands on the Key of Solomon will help. It has to have something more useful than devils traps. If it doesn't, though, she's not going to let herself be depressed by it.

“Bela?” Sarah’s cheerful smile fades into a worried frown.

In her more maudlin moments, she can’t help but look at Sarah and see what could have been. Wish she had waited a couple of years. That she had waited until she could escape that house with a sizable trust fund and make her own life instead of selling her soul. She could see herself becoming Sarah – or, at least, something rather close.

Bela thinks she’s all those things Sarah is, but she’s warped. Sarah never had a childhood consisting of dodging her father’s sick advances. She never had a lush for a mother who never listened to her pleas for help. Even Sarah’s brush with the supernatural made her a better person, instead of someone who uses her knowledge of the supernatural for profit.

Bela doesn’t say any of this, though. She could open up to Sarah, and Sarah would probably listen, but that would tarnish their easy accquaintance. She just shakes her head and says, “Nothing.”

That’s when the waitress arrives with her cocktail. _Thank God._ If Sarah’s going to turn their night out into a therapy session, she’s going to need alcohol. Bela won’t say anything, but it’ll make avoiding the issue easier.

Sarah, perceptive as always, senses her discomfort and changes the subject.

“So what object are you looking to ‘acquire’ now?” Sarah asks. They both know that by acquire, Sarah really means steal but is too polite to say it.

When they met a year ago, Bela was trying to steal a grimoire that Sarah’s auction house was going to sell as part of an estate sale. Bela hadn’t been able to steal the book, but somehow she found herself in this strange relationship with Sarah. Sarah later told her over drinks that she was contemplating how to make the really dangerous items disappear without letting her father know. Bela would have offered to take them off her hands, she could always find a buyer. Sarah thought that was even worse since selling the items to ignorant collectors was like placing a bomb in the hands of a curious child, dangerous and would never end well.

Unlike Sarah, Bela never gave any thought to the damage her clients could do with the occult objects they bought; mainly, they all viewed them as harmless collector’s items. Pretty little knick knacks with gruesome histories to be used as conversation starters, no different than medieval broadswords or paintings of war and famine rich people liked to look at and feel all the more blessed for. They were status symbols.

Sarah, though, has a deep seated guilt for inadvertently selling a haunted painting that killed a few people. It hadn't even been that nice of a painting, so Bela thinks it was their own fault. By burning the painting, Sarah had done the art world a favor.

“You just want to know what you’re going to cheat me out of stealing.” Bela takes a sip of her gin. It’s good, there’s a nice citrusy taste to balance out the juniper.

“Naturally,” Sarah’s smile is flirty, her eyes bright. “But chances are we’re after the same thing.”

“Darling,” Bela replies. “Half the fun of our acquaintance is the thrill of one-upmanship.”

Sarah’s face falls a little at that. Her inability to hide what she’s thinking never ceases to amuse Bela.

“Acquaintance? I think we’re closer than just acquaintances.”

“Really?”

Sarah probably considers them friends. They have enough in common, after all. They’re both silent players in their little niche of the hunting world. Even if their goals are different, they both deal with antiques; auctions and sales are how they participate, not brawls and vandalism. It’s different in that way from her rivalry with the Winchester brothers, because they don’t actually pose a challenge to her job – they have a habit of fumbling their own jobs up, helping her inadvertently. It's only ever her life that they threaten and they never follow through. Sarah, on the other hand, has caused her to lose more deals than the Winchesters could ever imagine.

“What would you call us then?”

Sarah stares at her hands, her brows knit in concentration.

“I don’t know what we are,” Sarah answers quietly. “But acquaintance sounds too formal.”

“Rivals,” Bela says. “I’d say rivals better defines us.”

There’s something odd about the way Sarah is looking at her.

“Do rivals generally meet in bars even when they’re not trying to cheat each other?”

Bela couldn’t think of a satisfactory answer. For the life of her, she couldn’t explain why she continued to see Sarah. Maybe it was because Sarah represented someone she could have been. Maybe she just wanted to be around someone who made her feel something. Or mabye it was just that Sarah noticed her.

“Some do,” Bela says.

Sarah’s gaze is speculative, like she’s sizing Bela up. Bela can’t think why. Sarah leans forward and suddenly it hits Bela. She’s flirting. Bela’s entertained thoughts of being with Sarah; harmless flights of fancy. Why wouldn’t she? Sarah is beautiful and has this energy about her that’s alluring. Yet, in her weaker moments she’s considered crossing that line between fantasy and reality. For some unfathomable reason, she wants to connect with Sarah.

Bela leans in, and Sarah leans forward as expected, her lips parted. Bela entertains the thought of kissing Sarah here in this club, but she hasn’t completely lost it.

“So do you want to go elsewhere?”

“Yeah.”

* * *

The instant they enter her apartment, Bela presses Sarah up against the wall. She leans forward, but doesn’t kiss Sarah, just pauses a breath away. She looks at Sarah’s lips, watching as they part and feels Sarah’s hands find their way to her neck, twining long fingers in her hair. Bela hesitates and then leans in slowly for a kiss.

Sarah’s lips are soft, pliant as they part automatically to deepen the kiss. Bela tilts her head for a better angle, and the kiss deepens becomes something raw, passionate. A clashing of tongues and biting lips. Bela’s swept up in the feel of Sarah’s body so close to hers.

Bela's hands skim over Sarah’s coat to the buttons. As she undoes them, Sarah presses her body closer so that there’s barely any space between them. Sarah’s tongue skims over Bela’s lower lip and pushes in. Bela fumbles with the buttons for a moment, but finally frees the last one.

She holds her arms out as Bela pushes the coat off Sarah’s shoulders, down her arms. It falls to the floor in a puddle at their feet.

Breaking the kiss only to focus on removing Sarah’s scarf, Bela tugs on the center until it comes free. Like the coat, she lets it drop to the floor, lowering her hands in the process to slide them up the skin of Sarah’s thighs. She pulls at Sarah’s dress, but doesn’t go any farther than just skittering underneath the hem, drawing out abstract shapes with her fingers.

Sarah bites her bottom lip before kissing her insistently, as she undoes the belt on Bela’s coat. When begins undoing the buttons, Bela steps back and removes the jacket herself. The silk feels strange against her skin as it slithers down her back. Sarah’s still against the wall watching her intently.

  
As soon as her hands are free, Sarah’s back in her arms kissing her within an inch of her life. Bela goes with it and twines her hands in Sarah’s hair, kissing her back. She feels on fire, alive because someone needs her. Wants her.

“Bedroom,” Sarah gasps out. There’s a light touch, following the path of the zipper that sends shivers down Bela’s spine.

Bela doesn’t answer. She nips at Sarah’s lower lip, and then pushes away the stray strands of hair to nip at the pulse point just below Sarah’s ear. It’s answer enough.

The bed isn’t far, but they make their way slowly. Bela knows her way in the dark, but it’s a lot harder to find it when she spends more time kissing than paying attention to the obstacles along the way. Focusing on the softness on Sarah’s skin, the way she tastes, or the gasps and moans Sarah makes.

Sarah flops back on the bed, dress hiking up to reveal creamy white thighs as she spreads her legs. Bela kneels in the space between Sarah’s legs, running her hands up Sarah’s thighs, reveling in the smoothness. Sarah makes a beautiful picture, long black hair splayed across the white pillow, eyes shining with some emotion that Bela doesn’t want to name and across her face a brilliant smile.

As Bela leans over Sarah, her hair falls forward. Sarah reaches out to brush the hair away from Bela’s face. It’s an intimate gesture, and Bela doesn’t want to think about what it could mean. She can’t help but kiss her, softly at first, a light brush of lips. Sarah opens her mouth and then their tongues are tangling together. Sarah’s hands come to cup the side of Bela’s face.

Bela breaks away to lightly kiss down Sarah’s neck. Bela ignores the possessive impulse to mark that perfectly pale skin, but she does run her teeth along the line of her throat. Sarah’s breath hitches. Bela smiles against her skin and continues kissing that spot, enjoying the way Sarah spreads her legs wider and exposes her neck more. She shifts so that one arm is supporting her weight, and slides a hand up Sarah’s thigh under her skirt, pushing up the silky fabric. She runs her hand along Sarah’s inner thigh, stopping just shy of Sarah’s panties.

Sarah rolls her hips. “Tease,” she says breathily, before pulling her into another kiss. This time there’s nothing soft or timid about it, just a filthy clashing of tongues. Bela traces the length of Sarah’s thigh, and Instead of stopping continues upward to run a finger along her folds where the first signs of wetness are showing through the fabric.

“Gah.” Sarah shivers.

Bela runs a finger down the slit, covered in lace. Sarah’s wearing lingerie. Judging by the material, expensive lingerie. She sits up and kneels on the bed, looking down at Sarah. Sarah’s panties are a pale yellow, see through and she can make out the nub of her clit through the material. _She dressed up for me_ Bela thinks absently. Transfixed, her hand traces the contours of Sarah pausing briefly at her clit, lightly pressing down. Sarah moans.

The knowledge that Sarah did this all to lure her in, calculated, makes her seem more vulnerable. It all could have failed.

Sarah sits up legs still spread obscenely, and pulls Bela closer. She nuzzles at Bela’s neck.

“Let’s get you out of this dress,” Sarah says as she undoes the zipper, slowly her hands tickling as they trace her spine.

Bela doesn’t argue and goes for where she thinks the zipper is, in the back, but finds nothing.

Sarah honest to god laughs, hands pausing their exploration. “Your face.” Sarah’s hand finds hers and brings it to her side. “If you still want to undress me.”

Bela smooths her features, trying not to seem indignant. She brushes the hair away from Sarah’s face as her hand pulls down the zipper, revealing more of that beautiful pale skin. Sarah lifts her arms, and Bela pulls up her dress. She throws the dress aside, the yellow fabric forming a silken puddle on the floor.

Sarah slowly pulls down the sleeves of Bela’s dress, her fingers trail along Bela’s arm as she does.

She trails kisses along the vein in Bela’s neck. The tender press of lips down her neck makes goosebumps rise.

Surprisingly ungraceful, Bela steps off the bed, shimmies out of her dress and kicks off her shoes. In just her underwear, she takes in Sarah on the bed. Inexorably, Bela’s gaze is drawn to those beautiful breasts.

Bela climbs back onto the bed, settling between Sarah’s legs as Sarah lies back. She fondles them as she sucks on a nipple through the fabric, until it hardens.

Sarah rolls her hips. “Come on,” she says impatiently. Bela smiles, begins sucking on her other nipple. _She can wait._

Sarah abruptly sits up, forcing Bela’s mouth away from her breasts in the process. Sarah unclasps her bra and tosses it in the direction of their clothes. It amuses Bela that things designed and put on with such care can be tossed so carelessly aside in the heat of the moment. That in the end they don’t matter. The trappings don’t matter in the end.

Suddenly, Bela finds herself on her back looking up at the ceiling. It’s disorienting and she feels a bit out of control. When she tries to move, Sarah stops nipping and kissing - her hands move from where they were teasing at the edge of her panites - and pushes Bela back down, straddles her waist. Her hands pin Bela’s to the mattress causing her to flinch at Sarah’s aggressiveness.

“Just go with it,” Sarah whispers in her ear She makes eye contact and then adds, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“That’s debatable.”

Sarah releases her with a frown. Bela pulls her down and kisses her. She doesn’t want to talk about this. If she has her way she’ll never talk about it. This isn’t therapy, it’s just sex.

Her hand reaches into Sarah’s underwear, slips a finger into the folds of her vagina. She gathers the wetness to slick her fingers as she rubs in teasing circles near Sarah’s clit. The motion of her fingers are restricted by the underwear and the angle is awkward. Sarah’s hips roll into her fingers, but Bela can tell it’s not very pleasurable.

“Take these off.” Bela tugs at the panties.

Sarah does, a little too eagerly, and she lies on her back and strips off the lacy fabric. Bela takes advantage of the break to do the same. Sarah’s legs are spread wide, inviting.  
Before she knows it, she’s tonguing at Sarah’s clit, tenative little licks that cause Sarah to gasp. She keeps the pressure teasing, light, just enough to get Sarah wetter and cause her to writher and moan.

“Bela.” Hands grasp her hair. “Come on.”

Bela’s not about to acquiesce to Sarah’s demands; she’s in control here. Just to be contrary she continues at the same pace, until she’s got Sarah on the edge enough to start begging. With her hands, she pins down Sarah’s hips, so she can’t try to get any friction.

“Please,” Sarah gasps out and attempts to roll her hips. “Bela, please.”

 _That’s better_. Sarah’s “Bela” is cut off when Bela starts sucking and licking at her clit in earnest. Sarah’s hands move from her hair and when Bela sneaks a peak she can see them clenching tightly at the bed sheets. Sarah’s mouth is open, eyes closed, completely lost in the pleasure Bela’s causing. She can’t think of a better sight. Her fingers slide into Sarah’s channel, in and out, as she continues to eat Sarah out. Cataloging Sarah’s reactions.

When Sarah comes, it’s quiet; the only signs are physical. The way her body clenches around Bela’s fingers, and her legs tighten briefly around Bela’s head. She continues sucking and fingering her through it, until Sarah’s body relaxes.

Bela kisses her way back up Sarah’s body. Sarah’s skin tastes sweet in comparison to the saltiness of her come. To her surprise Sarah kisses her. Not a peck either. Tongues tangle together, and Sarah’s tongue maps out her mouth.

There’s a teasing touch at her slit, a finger lightly running along the edge but not dipping further. Bela feels on fire, and there’s an ache where she wants Sarah to touch her. She’ll be damned if she begs.

Sarah doesn’t seem to be in a teasing mood, though. It’s not long before her fingers find their way to Bela’s clit. Bela moans at the first brush of Sarah’s fingers, that sweet relief of that ache. Sarah starts slow, applying just enough pressure.

“Yes,” Bela says. She sits up, and Sarah follows her, adjusts the position of her hand to compensate for the new angle. Sarah pulls her back down for a kiss. Bela's hips pick up a new, frantic pace, seeking more of that delicious friction. Sarah’s fingers dance a little faster. Her touch is amazing, like she knows all the right buttons to push to make her fall apart.

“Right there,” Bela pants out. “So good.”

Sarah slips a finger inside her channel, Bela moans at the new sensation of Sarah fucking her with her finger; rolling her hips to get the most out of the twin sensations of Sarah’s fingers on her clit and inside her. Needing to occupy her mouth, she kisses her way down Sarah’s throat to her collarbone. Sarah gasps when she nips at the tender skin.

Her orgasm hits like a shock wave. She comes, and bites down hard on Sarah’s shoulder.

After she comes down, they stay there for a moment. Sarah’s fingers still in her. Her mouth, no longer biting, is still kissing the skin of Sarah’s shoulder.

It gets uncomfortable, and Bela moves off Sarah and lies on her back. She closes her eyes, lifts an arm over her head, relaxed and sated. An arm wraps around her waist, followed by a leg. Bela opens her eyes and looks down at Sarah, whose hand has moved to her stomach.

“You aren’t seriously trying to cuddle are you?”

Sarah grins mischievously. “Maybe”

Bela rolls her eyes. “Americans.”

Sarah laughs and rolls away off the bed. “So much for some post-coital cuddling before I go.”

“Go?” Bela hates that she sounds disappointed.

Sarah’s putting on her discarded underwear. Bela sits up and moves to the edge of the bed, taking in the view from behind as Sarah picks up her bra. The back is just as lovely as the front, she observes. Sarah, still bra-less, turns around and approaches the bed; she straddles Bela’s waist.

 _This is the kiss-off_ Bela thinks, looking into Sarah’s eyes. This is where Sarah tells her this was all a mistake.

To postpone the inevitable, Bela kisses her. She resists the urge to start another round by reaching for Sarah’s clit, to see if she can make Sarah squirm like before. As it is, her kiss is far too needy and desperate. _You’re far too attached._

“God, don’t do this.” Sarah pants. “I have to go.”

Sarah doesn’t move though. Bela decides to press this advantage by fondling her breasts.

“Bela.”

“Stay.” _Damnit_ She can’t believe she said that.

Sarah looks at her quizzically, probably wondering what happened to the ice queen. “My father expects me back by midnight.”

“I didn’t realize you were a child?”

“I’m not, it’s just ...”

Bela cuts her off with a kiss. She’s beyond caring that this behavior is beneath her. She’s tired of being alone, holding herself back.

Sarah’s brows knit in confusion, she studies Bela’s face. “Okay, but I need to be back at my hotel by nine for breakfast.”

Bela glances at the clock, it’s barely ten. “Perfect.”

She reaches out and brushes her thumb against Sarah’s clit and she sucks on a nipple, causing Sarah to gasp. “Let’s have some more fun shall we?”

Sarah smiles and kisses her.

* * *

Seeing Sarah at the preview that night is surreal.

It’s not because she didn’t expect Sarah. Sarah had kissed her goodbye that morning, the sun up and over the horizon, and told her she’d see her at the auction. There was no need to elaborate. Bloomsbury Auction House was auctioning off a priceless collection of occult manuscripts that night; any collector of the occult was going to be there. She wondered how Sarah managed to talk her father into attending.

The prize – as far as Bela was concerned – was one of the few existing versions of the Key of Solomon printed during the Renaissance. Bela was here as a legitimate buyer, grasping at one of the last straws to save her soul. It’s rare that a collection like this would sell in an open auction, and pretty much every collector of the occult she knows is in the room.

No, it’s surreal because she’s seen Sarah at her most intimate and now she has to be around her in public. She’s held Sarah in her arms and watched her come apart because of what Bela was doing with her mouth and fingers. She finds it’s a secret that she doesn’t mind having. Bela is used to keeping secrets, most dark and disturbing. This one is a pleasant secret, knowing thisside of Sarah, keeping that private version of Sarah all to herself.

“Bela,” Sarah says, her smile friendly and polite. “It’s good to see you.”

Sarah looks beautiful, and normal. Bela finds it comforting, in a strange way, to see Sarah in what approaches her normal attire. Sarah looks like herself, in a plain black dress with a flared skirt, not too low cut but some jeweled embellishment at the collar. Elegant would be the best way to describe her.

Bela has to collect herself. _What are you doing?_ She is almost tempted to kill her for breaking their agreement that they just be civil in public. Sarah’s demeanor is far too informal.

“Sarah,” Bela tries not to let her apprehension show. Her voice sounds tight and fake to her own ears. “Likewise.”

Next to Sarah is a man Bela assumes is her father. She’s heard about the man, but never seen the elder Blake in the year she’s known Sarah. _This should be interesting._

“Hello. I’m Daniel Blake.” His manner is off putting, striking her as snobbish and very particular about things. Bela enjoys the finer things in life, but she doesn’t feel the need to look down on everyone else without cause. It’s a stark contrast to his daughter’s friendly demeanor. Bela wonders what her mother was like. “How do you know my daughter?”

 _We met when I was trying to rip off your auction house._ Behind him Sarah mouths, “College.”

“Uni,” Bela replies. “We were acquaintances at Uni.”

“Really? My daughter never mentioned you before.”

 _Suspicious bastard_ , Bela thinks. Normally this brings out the snarky side of her personality, but this isn’t the time.

“We weren’t that close,” Bela replies, smiling as sweetly as possible.

“She and I have reconnected in the past couple of months,” Sarah says, stepping up beside her father. “She’s also in the auction business.”

“Which house do you work for?”

 _Like that really matters._

From anyone else it would be pleasant small talk; from Daniel Blake it’s full of suspicion and paranoia, like he’s sizing everyone up. In the grand scheme of things, his auction house is nothing, glorified estate sales really. Even if she was from a small inconsequential auction house, Daniel Blake really has no reason to judge. It confirms her suspicions that he has delusions of grandeur.

“It’s a tiny auction house in London,” Bela says. It’s better to be vague. She can’t be caught in the lie. “You’ve probably never heard of it.”

“I see.” He’s not buying it. “So what brings you here tonight?”

“The books of course.” This will lead to more questions of course, but Bela doesn’t really feel like indulging this man. “I’m a collector.”

“Bela specializes in Latin manuscripts,” Sarah says. She’s trying to make this less antagonistic, bless her.

“I see Well then this is the collection for you.”

“It very much is.” _If only you knew how much_

Daniel Blake checks his watch. “Well the auctions starting.” He turns towards his daughter. “Let’s take our seats.”

“It was good seeing you again, Bela,” Sarah says. “Next time I’m in the city, we should have coffee.”

“Yes, let’s.”

As much as she enjoyed Sarah’s company, she is glad to part ways. An evening around Sarah’s father would have been insufferable.

Bela tended to avoid auctions in general; it was mind-numbingly boring waiting around for the lot she was interested in to be auctioned off. It went against the unwritten auction protocol for her to read a book or browse her blackberry during proceedings. _God, the rituals of the wealthy are completely irrational sometimes._ Even if she had no intention of buying the lot currently being auctioned off, it had to have her undivided attention. Sitting around for two hours, going out of her mind with boredom only confirmed how much she hated auctions.

“Our last item for the night, Lot #565,” the auctioneer says calmly.

“Finally,” Bela mutters under her breath. The woman next to her looks at her with scorn. _Sorry to interrupt your sacred ritual._ Bela didn’t really care, she’d be out of here in an hour, hopefully with a certificate of ownership for a Key of Solomon.

The bidding opened at $50,000, which Bela thought was a pittance considering how valuable the manuscript was worth for those in the know. Any one of the hunters she knew would kill to get their hands on this book. She’d bet good money that most of the people in this room were bidding based on its status as a curio item, rather than a practical book of magic. An incredibly useful book of magic.

The price keeps climbing, and Bela’s biding her time. So far there’s been no need for her to step in and outbid someone. She finally decides to step in when the price reaches $155,000. She gets into a minor bidding war, with someone she’s pretty sure is Sarah, but prevails with a bid at $200,000.

The woman she was bidding against turns around. It was Sarah after all. She looks at Bela with a confused expression, like she doesn’t know what to make of the fact that Bela just acquired something through honest means, depleting herself of a small fortune. Bela just smiles, thrilled that she won this round.

And if the Key proves useful and she wins back her soul, there’ll be many more chances to win.


End file.
